


Get Me To The Church On Time

by teyla



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-02
Updated: 2007-01-02
Packaged: 2017-10-02 17:57:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teyla/pseuds/teyla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trip and Malcolm are getting married!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Get Me To The Church On Time

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Steve and Christine Haslet for the help with the wedding speech. Watch out, this gets mighty sappy at some points. I tried to put enough humor in it to compensate, but please don't say I didn't warn you.
> 
> **Beta**: Sita Z, TLI

"Why haven't they called yet?"

Trip sighed, watching his partner of four years pace to and fro in the kitchen of their shared home. "Mal," he said, "they said they'd call today _or_ tomorrow."

Malcolm let out a breath and shook his head, but uttered no further protests. He didn't stop pacing either, though. Trip licked his lips. "Mal. . ."

"What?"

Trip briefly considered saying something about how everything was going to work out just fine, and that maybe Malcolm should try and sit down, but then decided against it. Instead, he gestured at the clock on the kitchen wall. "It's almost time," he said. "My parents will be arriving in twenty minutes. D'you wanna come with me pick them up?"

Malcolm finally stopped, leaning against the kitchen counter with a sigh. "I really don't have time," he said. "They'll be offended if I don't show up, though, won't they?"

Trip smothered a smile he knew would not be appreciated and shook his head. "No, Mal, they won't. My mom helped organize her share of weddings, she knows that it's no walk in the park."

Malcolm sighed again and dropped his head between his shoulders. "Tell me again why we're not having a nice quiet wedding all for ourselves far away from any friends and relatives?" he asked.

Now it was Trip's turn to sigh. "Because Jon got wind of the whole thing and called my mom, who called your mom."

Malcolm scrunched his eyes shut. "I knew it was a mistake to introduce them to each other."

At that, Trip couldn't suppress the smile anymore. He got up and took his desperate partner by the shoulders. "It doesn't have to be all that bad, Mal," he said.

Malcolm raised his head, a very doubtful expression on his face. "A gathering of your family, my family, and half of Starfleet's Warp Five Program, all getting together to stare at you and me for a whole day. How can it not be bad?"

Trip shook his head and placed a kiss on Malcolm's forehead. "They just wanna be happy with you," he said.

Malcolm frowned. "If they really want to make me happy, they should all bloody well stay at home."

Trip snorted. "You know what, Mal," he said, stepping back. "I'll go and pick up my parents, and you do whatever you still gotta do. And when I get back, we'll go to bed and try to catch some sleep before tomorrow. How's that sound?"

Malcolm looked at him for a moment, then nodded. "Sounds like a plan," he said.

Trip smiled. "Great." He placed a gentle kiss on Malcolm's creased forehead. "Love you, darlin'."

At that, Malcolm produced a small smile. "I love you, too, Trip. I'll see you in an hour, then?"

Trip nodded. "I'll be quick." He smiled again, trying to convey some reassurance, then picked up his keys from the kitchen counter and left for the airport.

\-------

When Trip pulled into the driveway and killed the flitter's engine, it was more like three hours later than one. His parents' flight had been delayed for over an hour, and the hotel had screwed up the reservations, booking a room with two separate beds instead one with a double bed. Clearing that up and getting his parents settled had cost him another hour, and Trip was afraid that by now, Malcolm was climbing the walls. Even more than he had been before, that was.

Quickly, Trip hurried up the porch steps and unlocked the door to let himself in. As he entered, the hallway and adjoining kitchen were dark. The only light was a thin illuminated strip under the closed door to the living room. Trip shook off his shoes and pushed the door open to see Malcolm standing in front of the living room table, sorting through a chaotic pile of padds.

"Hey Mal," Trip said.

At his words, Malcolm jumped and snapped around, his sudden movement making a few of the padds topple to the floor. "Trip!" he said. "Where were you? It's two am!"

At Malcolm's tense tone, Trip raised his hands and took a step into the room. "Sorry, darlin'," he said. "The whole thing took longer than I thought it would."

Malcolm pressed his lips together, then turned back to the desk and began to sort through the padds again. "You could have called, you know."

Trip winced. He could have called, if he'd had his phone with him. "Sorry, Mal."

Malcolm didn't answer, and didn't look up when Trip came up beside him. Trip watched his partner as he grabbed padd after padd, glancing at the screen and discarding them. He raised his eyebrows.

"Are you lookin' for somethin'?"

"Uncle Archie's vidphone number," Malcolm answered and shoved aside another padd. "I know I've got it here somewhere."

Trip bent down to pick up the padds that had fallen to the floor. "Why d'you need it?"

"Because we still need to call him about the change of schedule. Right now it's evening over there in Europe. Shouldn't be too late."

Trip straightened up. "That's okay, Mal," he said. "I called him this afternoon. Caught him just before he left for work."

Malcolm stopped in his tracks and frowned, then grabbed one of the padds that he had put aside earlier. "You already called him? It's not checked on the list."

"Uh. . . must've forgotten." Trip ducked his head. "Sorry, Mal."

"Trip, I keep these lists for a reason!" With an exasperated sigh, Malcolm dropped the padd back onto the table. "Anything else you already took care of but forgot to check?"

Trip shook his head. "No, I don't think so."

"Are you certain? Because it seems to me that not half the things that should be taken care of by now actually are taken care of."

"We got most of the stuff done in time," Trip said. "The only things that are left to do is stuff that we couldn't do any earlier."

"The damn catering service hasn't called yet."

"They will, Mal." Trip put a hand on his partner's shoulder. "I'm sure they'll do that first thing in the mornin'." _I hope._

Malcolm sighed, then ran a hand over his face. "Promise me something, Trip," he said.

Trip raised his eyebrows. "What's that?"

"Please make sure that I never let anyone talk me into something like this again."

"Somethin' like what?" Trip asked. "Marryin' me?"

"No!" Malcolm looked up at Trip. "No, Trip, of course I want to marry you. I. . . just don't want the whole world as an audience."

At Malcolm's harassed expression, Trip took pity on his partner and pulled him into a hug. "We'll be fine, Mal. Come on, let's go to bed, catch a few hours of sleep before our big day, huh?"

Malcolm sighed and nodded against his chest. "Okay." He pulled back a little. "I'm sorry if I'm making this more complicated than it has to be. I don't mean to-"

Trip held up a hand. "It's okay, Mal," he said. "Just relax. Everything's gonna be fine."

Malcolm nodded, a small smile on his lips. "If you say so."

\-------

He couldn't sleep. Malcolm was lying on his back and staring into the darkness of the bedroom, his fingers plucking on the blankets. He couldn't see much in the dark, but he could hear all the more. There was Trip's low, even breathing, the occasional hum of an aircar passing outside, and the sounds the house produced, a creak or croak now and then. If he concentrated hard enough, Malcolm could even make out various smells, the most obvious one being the ever-present smell of their home, mixed with the smell of bed and sleep.

Malcolm sighed and rolled onto his side. He'd never be able to go to sleep with his senses on high alert like that. His gaze fell on the alarm clock on the bedside table, and he briefly closed his eyes in exasperation. Four thirty. He'd been lying here for more than two hours.

He couldn't seem to calm down enough to go to sleep, though. A part of his mind kept going over the various to-do lists he knew by heart by now, worrying whether he had forgotten something important. It seemed almost impossible that he hadn't.

And the bloody catering service hadn't called yet, either. What if they didn't do so tomorrow? How were they supposed to organize dinner for over seventy guests in less than a day?

Malcolm sighed and rolled onto his other side. Seventy guests. He hadn't even known he and Trip knew so many people. Granted, the biggest part of them were Trip's extended family, and his own family made up a larger part than he had imagined they would. The rest were friends from work, old friends that they just could not _not_ invite, and people that nobody quite knew how they'd found their way onto the guest list.

_Far too many,_ Malcolm thought, turning onto his back again. _Far too many people._

He turned his head a little and waited until his eyes had made out the few strands of Trip's tousled head that peeked out from under the blanket. Trip had fallen asleep almost immediately after they'd gone to bed. Malcolm envied the way Trip seemed to be able to cope with the whole thing. He knew that Trip was nervous as well, but apparently, his partner had found a way not to let the nervousness get to him. Malcolm had tried to do so as well, but he just couldn't help it. The mere thought of the next day made his stomach contract painfully.

He turned again to look at the alarm clock. Four forty-five. With a sigh, he sat up. This was pointless. It seemed like sleep wasn't happening for him tonight, so he might as well get up and do something useful. There sure were enough things that needed to be done.

\-------

"Yes," Malcolm said, nodding at the man on the screen. "That would be great."

"Right, so we're all set. Fourteen hundred hours. I'll send my very best people."

Malcolm nodded again, and after a few polite exchanges cut the connection. He allowed himself a short moment of pure relief at the fact that even though the catering service had called at the last possible minute, everything should work out just fine with that part of the proceedings. He grabbed a padd on which he had compiled a list of all the things that still needed to be taken care of, and deleted the dinner item. For a moment, he contemplated the rapidly shrinking list, and felt slight hope stir at the bottom of his stomach. Maybe, by some impossible chance of fate, everything would work out after all. Maybe.

Malcolm closed his eyes for a moment, then looked at the clock on the wall, and felt his already queasy stomach twist once more. It was already past eight in the morning. Where the hell was Trip? They needed to leave at nine at the very latest, and there were still a million things they needed to take care of before that.

Malcolm got up from his chair and hurried up the stairs. Certainly Trip was taking hours in the shower again. The man had a tendency to do that at the most inopportune of times.

When Malcolm opened the door to the bedroom, though, the sight that presented itself to him made him stop in his tracks. Trip was not, as Malcolm had guessed, taking a two-hour-shower in the adjoining bathroom, and either was he digging through the closet in the process of getting dressed. Trip was not even up. He was lying on his stomach, sprawled across the bed with the blanket twisted around his lower body, and snoring loudly.

"Trip!"

At the sound of his voice, Trip started and pushed himself up, turning around at the same time and losing his balance. Had he been anywhere near the edge of the bed, he certainly would have ended up on the floor. Like this, he only flopped back down on the mattress. "What?!"

"Will you get up? It's almost eight fifteen!" Malcolm just couldn't believe it.

Trip blinked in confusion, then his expression took on an air of shock as the information seeped through to him. "Fuck," he muttered as he disentangled himself from the blanket and scrambled out of bed. "Must've forgotten to set the alarm."

"Oh, bloody marvelous!" Malcolm clenched his teeth as Trip rushed past him. "You couldn't have picked a better day, Mr. Tucker."

Trip was already halfway to the bathroom door when he turned around again and yanked open one of the closet's drawers, digging for some underwear. "Why the hell didn't you wake me up?"

"I wasn't here, I got up early. Besides, I made the mistake to rely on your ability to think of something as simple as setting the alarm clock on the night before your wedding day."

Trip visibly winced and frantically shook his head, shoving the drawer shut and once more heading for the bathroom. "Sorry, Mal," he said, his eyebrows drawn together in a hassled frown. "With all that was goin' on last night, pickin' up my parents, and I was kinda nervous, too; I must've-"

"Stop talking, Trip, and hurry up." Malcolm glanced at the alarm clock, the panicky feeling in his gut intensifying as he saw the figures on the display, and in his mind he quickly went over their morning plans, changing them according to the altered situation. "We'll leave at nine," he said. "I'll be waiting in the flitter." He looked up and raised his voice as he called into the bathroom, "Don't you dare be late, Trip!"

"I won't!" Trip answered in a muffled voice, and a second later, the sound of water splashing came from the bathroom. Malcolm took a brief moment to take a deep breath and wait for his pulse to slow down at least a little. Then he turned around and left the bedroom, hurriedly descending the stairs and wishing the day would be over already.

\-------

"And here I was thinkin' I'd never see the day you finally decide to settle down!" Aunt Birdie gave a silly giggle and sipped on her drink. Trip smiled at her, hoping the expression didn't look as strained as it felt.

"What can I say?" he said. "I was only waitin' for the right person to come along."

"And you finally found him, too, didn't you? On your starship!" She said the last word in a conspiratorial tone of voice and flapped a hand at him. "Did you really have to go into space for five years to find your sweetheart?"

Not for the first time today, Trip wished he had dropped Aunt Birdie's invitation into the waste basket rather than the mailbox. He produced another smile. "It seems so. Would you please excuse me for a minute?"

Aunt Birdie giggled again, even though Trip didn't quite fathom why. "Of course," she said. "Go on."

Trip smiled at her one last time, then backed off towards the bow of the upper deck he and the other guests were on.

He and Malcolm had picked a location on one of the islands in the San Francisco bay for their wedding, a very beautiful place indeed, with the only disadvantage that it could only be reached by ferry. When they had found the place, Malcolm had assured Trip that it wouldn't be a problem; as long as he didn't have to swim to the island and back, he would be fine. Right now, however, Trip thought that his partner seemed anything but fine. Malcolm, one hand on the railing, looked distinctly green around the nose as he talked to one of his uncles, sporting a rather strained smile. As Trip approached them, he heard the uncle's voice.

". . . haven't seen her in ages, I really should say hello." The uncle looked over at a group of people on the other side of the deck. "I'll be right back, Malcolm," he said. "Don't you disappear on me."

Malcolm shook his head. "I won't, Uncle Kenneth."

Uncle Kenneth strode off towards the people he'd been looking at before, and Trip took the opportunity to step up beside his partner. Malcolm had turned around, now resting both hands on the railing. Trip could see that he was gripping it tightly, his knuckles turning white.

"Hey, Mal," he said, resting a hand on his partner's shoulder. "You okay?"

Malcolm raised his head in surprise. "Trip," he said. "Yes, I'm fine." His tone was tense.

Trip looked at him for a moment, then grinned a little despite himself. "You know," he said, "I think you're on the wrong side of the ship."

"What?" Malcolm shook his head in a small irritated gesture. "What are you talking about?"

"Barfin' only leewards, remember."

For a moment, Trip thought his joke was not appreciated at all, but then Malcolm's frown relented and he uttered a small, admittedly rather nervous, laugh. "I'm not going to barf, don't worry, Trip."

The ferry chose that moment to give a little lurch, and the smile vanished from Malcolm's face in an instant. Trip saw his partner grip the railing a little tighter. He raised his eyebrows. "Are you sure?"

Malcolm didn't say anything and only nodded. Trip suspected he didn't trust himself to open his mouth without making a mess. He sighed and put an arm around Malcolm's shoulders.

"Almost there, darlin'," he said. "Just a few more minutes."

Malcolm briefly closed his eyes and swallowed, then nodded again. Trip was about to add something more when he heard a voice from behind.

"Trip m'boy! There y'are! C'mere an' give yer uncle a hug!"

Trip let go of Malcolm and turned around, the wrinkled, grinning face of Bobby Tucker entering his field of vision. He dragged up another smile and left Malcolm's side to meet his great-uncle.

\-------

Trip furtively tried to wipe his sweaty palms on his pants, but succeeded only partially since he didn't dare move too much. He thought he could physically feel the seventy-something pairs of eyes that were directed at him and Malcolm. The thought of all those people staring at him made his stomach tie itself into an even tighter knot, and he could feel a droplet of sweat sneak down his neck. Damn suit. It was long-sleeved and black, and under the hot California sun Trip was beginning to feel as if he were caught in his own personal sauna. It didn't help that his heart seemed to have relocated itself, beating in his throat rather than his chest. He wondered whether he'd be able to utter a single word, and swallowed.

There was a soft rustle behind him, and Trip thought that he didn't seem to be the only one who was beginning to get uncomfortable. Even before the ceremony, Jon had looked a little sweaty in his best man's suit. They really should have thought of installing some kind of sunshade. The only one who didn't seem to be bothered by the heat at all was Hoshi, whom Trip could make out in the very corner of his eye. She was standing behind Malcolm, looking as if she had never done anything but being groomsmaid to one of her best friends. At first, Malcolm had been a little doubtful at the idea of a best woman, but Hoshi's considerable powers of persuasion, and maybe her impending sulking, had convinced him that having a groomsmaid was the best thing that could have happened to him.

"Today, you are surrounded by your family and friends, all of whom are gathered to witness your marriage and to share in the joy of this occasion."

Abe was doing a good job of this. When Trip had asked his cousin whether he would conduct the wedding, the notary had been a little doubtful as to whether he was the right person for the job. Trip had insisted, though, and he didn't regret it. Abe was giving a nice speech. Trip only wished he weren't too damn nervous to really appreciate it.

". . . one of the most memorable and happiest days of your life. You each bring to this marriage your own personality and spirit to form a union created by friendship, respect and love."

Trip felt Malcolm, who was standing next to him to his left, brush against him. He flicked his eyes to the side for a quick glance, fully intending to return his attention to Abe and his speech in a moment. What he saw, however, made his eyes linger. Malcolm's face was ghostly pale, almost white, and his eyes had a glassy look to them. He looked as if he weren't taking in any of what was going on around him.

Trip licked his lips, his eyes flitting to Abe, then back to his partner. "Mal?" he hissed as quietly as he could. "Mal, you okay?"

Malcolm didn't answer. Instead, he swayed again, his shoulder brushing against Trip's. Trip was beginning to get a little worried now, his eyes flying back and forth between his oblivious cousin and his partner while he tried to make a split-second choice as of what to do.

The next moment spared him of the decision. Malcolm bumped into him again, but instead of regaining his balance, this time he fell, almost shoving Trip off his feet as he crumpled to the ground.

_Aw, hell_. "Mal?" Trip was at his partner's side in a second, aware of the sudden silence that had spread over the crowd. He reached out and patted Malcolm's cheek. Abe appeared in his field of vision.

"Trip? What's wrong with him?"

Trip didn't answer. "Malcolm?" he said again. "C'mon, wake up."

When his partner didn't react, he felt himself beginning to get a little scared. He berated himself for not having seen this coming. The way Malcolm had been working himself into a state over this. . .

A familiar bleep interrupted his thoughts. Trip turned around and saw that Malcolm's parents, his own parents and Jon and Hoshi, all wearing equally concerned expressions, had come up behind him together with Phlox, who was now frowning down at the med scanner that had emitted the familiar electronic sound.

"What's the matter with him?" Mary Reed sounded worried, and eight pairs of eyes turned to the doctor, who looked up from his scanner and smiled broadly.

"Oh, nothing serious," he said and got down on his knees as well. "Mr. Reed?" he said in a loud, almost stern voice, and as Trip turned his eyes back to his partner, he saw Malcolm's eyelids flutter at the sound. He quickly reached out and took Malcolm by the shoulder. "Malcolm?" he said. "Mal, can you hear me?"

Malcolm slowly blinked his eyes open, only to squeeze them shut again immediately. He groaned. "Bloody hell."

At the familiar curse, Trip felt a certain relief, and smiled at his partner. "Hey there, darlin'." He put a hand on Malcolm's shoulder and helped him sit up. Malcolm blinked confusedly and reached out, putting a hand on Trip's arm to steady himself. He squinted up at the people who were standing around the two of them, then looked back at Trip.

"What happened?"

"You. . . ah. . ." Trip looked at Phlox, who raised his eyebrows and smiled cheerfully.

"You simply passed out, Mr. Reed," he said. "Heat, excitement and not eating will do that to anyone." The doctor clucked his tongue scoldingly, consulting his med scanner. "When _did_ you last eat, Mr. Reed? Your glucose level is below forty-five."

Malcolm opened his mouth, closed it again, then shook his head. "I don't know," he said. "Sometime yesterday."

Trip shook his head in exasperation and Phlox gave Malcolm an admonishing frown. "I remember at least three occasions on which I have told you that eating once every two days does not provide sufficient nutrition for the human body," Phlox said, then changed his expression back to his usual bright smile at an unsettling speed. "Fortunately, I anticipated something like this."

He reached into one of the large pockets of the Denobulan suit he was wearing and produced a hypospray. Malcolm narrowed his eyes at him.

"What's that?"

"A glucose concentrate. This will bring your blood sugar up to a more or less normal level." Phlox cocked his head and raised his eyebrows. "May I, Lieutenant?"

With obvious reluctance, Malcolm leaned his head to one side, exposing the side of his neck, and Phlox quickly released the medication in his bloodstream. "You'll be feeling better in a minute."

Malcolm nodded warily, and Trip tightened his grip on his partner's shoulder. "Thanks, Phlox," he said, then glanced up at Jon's concerned face. The Captain got the unspoken message, and he and Hoshi began to politely herd the Reeds and Trip's parents back to their seats. Abe had disappeared for a moment and returned with a paper cup of water in his hands which he handed to Trip. Trip thanked him with a smile, then looked back at Malcolm, relieved at the fact that at least some color had returned to his partner's face.

"There you go, Mal," he said, handing him the cup, and Malcolm took a sip.

"Thanks," he said and swallowed. Then he closed his eyes for a moment. "I'm sorry, Trip," he said. "I really didn't mean to-"

"Shh, Mal, don't apologize. It's not your fault."

Malcolm pressed his lips together. "Yes, it is," he said, a stubborn tone creeping into his voice. "I should have-"

"Malcolm," Trip said sternly, for once effectively cutting off his partner's self-incrimination. "Stop it."

Malcolm looked at him for a moment, then took another sip of water and put the cup down. "Well then," he said, beginning to get up. "I believe we weren't quite done, were we."

"Whoa, Mal," Trip said, putting a hand on Malcolm's shoulder. "Are you sure? You still don't look so good. We can, I don't know, postpone or somethin'."

Malcolm looked at him for a moment, then shook his head. "No way," he said decidedly. "We're not postponing. I am _not_ going through all of this a second time."

At that, Trip had to laugh. He got up and helped Malcolm to his feet, steadying him as he swayed a little. "Alright, Mal," he said. "Let's do this now."

Malcolm nodded and looked at him with an expression that carried amusement and apprehension to rather equal amounts. "Let's do this."

\-------

"The vows you are about to exchange represent your pledge to each other. For it is not the words that bind you together as one, but it is the love and commitment you feel for each other."

Abe's gaze settled on Trip, and Trip could see the sparkle in his cousin's eyes. His stomach fluttered and he felt a little like he had when they'd gone to warp five for the first time. Only that right now, the feeling was about four times stronger.

"Charles," Abe said, "do you take Malcolm to be your wedded husband? Will you love, comfort, honor and respect him? Will you share all life has to offer, your hopes and dreams, your achievements and disappointments with him from this day forward?"

"Yes." Considering how all his insides were apparently determined to crawl up his throat and choke him, his voice sounded rather normal. "I do."

Abe's eyes turned to the left. "Malcolm, do you take Charles to be your wedded husband? Will you love, comfort, honor, and respect him? Will you share all life has to offer, your hopes and dreams, your achievements and disappointments with him from this day forward?"

Trip briefly looked over at Malcolm, and saw that his partner had turned his head as well. Their eyes met, and Trip felt his throat close up some more.

"Yes," Malcolm said, looking back at Abe. "I do."

"The wedding rings become an enduring symbol of the promises which have been made."

Trip turned a little to the side and saw Jennie, his five-year-old niece, approach them with a wary look on her face and the rings in her hands. Her eyes were fixed on Abe, and as soon as the adult had taken the rings from her, Jennie made a hasty retreat from the focus of attention.

Trip looked back at Abe, and saw that his cousin was offering one of the plain silver wedding bands to him. He reached out and took it, willing his hand not to shake too much.

"Charles, will you repeat after me: With this ring I thee wed, as a symbol of my commitment to you."

Trip turned around to face Malcolm, who was looking at him with wide, rather apprehensive eyes. He swallowed and spoke, trying to pronounce the words as clearly as possible. "With this ring I thee wed, as a symbol of my commitment to you."

For one terrible second, Trip thought he would drop the ring. Then he slipped it on Malcolm's finger, and their eyes met again. Now, there was a definite sparkle to Malcolm's eyes, and he smiled the tiniest bit as he took the second ring from Abe.

"With this ring I thee wed, as a symbol of my commitment to you."

Malcolm's voice was very steady, and so were his hands as he slid the ring on Trip's finger. They held each other's eyes as Abe spoke up once more.

"I now pronounce you husband and husband. You may seal your vows with a kiss."

Trip leaned forward, and so did Malcolm. Their lips met, and as they kissed, Trip heard the crowd behind them erupt in cheers. He wrapped his arms around his partner and pulled him a little closer still, not breaking off the kiss until Malcolm pulled back a little and met his gaze. Malcolm's eyes were bright and alive with laughter, and he was smiling a beautiful smile. Trip answered it with one of his own, feeling his own eyes moisten up a bit, and knew that right now, there couldn't be anyone in the universe happier than he was at the moment.

\-------

"No." Malcolm shook his head, and Trip could see that he was trying to look stern. He wasn't succeeding at all, though, the twitching of his lips and the creases at the corner of his eyes giving him away. "You're not going to pick me up and carry me anywhere. Least of all over a threshold."

Trip shook his head in exasperation and gestured at the open door of their house. "It's tradition, Mal! The groom carries the- well, in this case the other groom-"

"And who said you were going to be the one doing the carrying?" Malcolm shook his head again. "I'll carry _you_."

Now it was Trip's turn to shake his head. He quickly stepped back from the open door and had to reach out for the wall to steady himself. He couldn't help but give a small giggle and shook a finger at his husband. "Oh no, you won't. You c'n barely walk straight. 'Sides, it's dark."

"So?" Despite his intoxicated state, Malcolm still managed a decent scoff. "You are just as drunk as I am, Mr. Tucker-Reed, and my hand eye coordination is naturally better than yours."

Trip tried to think of an appropriate come-back, but somehow the giggling hadn't ceased and was stopping him from thinking of anything. "How 'bout I carry you, an' then we come back outside an' you carry me?" he said instead. Malcolm only looked at him for a moment, and as Trip saw the way how he was trying to suppress his own laughter in order to look haughty, another bout of giggles took hold of him.

"That is about the daftest idea you ever had, Mr. Tucker-Reed," Malcolm said, the corners of his mouth twitching. "There is absolutely no logic in your suggestion."

Trip swallowed his laughter and climbed back up the porch steps. "You ain't seen nothin' daft yet, honey," he said and gestured at Malcolm to follow him. "C'mon up here."

Malcolm looked at him warily. "I told you, you are not going to carry me."

"I won't carry ya. Now c'mon up here."

Looking as if he were acting against his better judgment, Malcolm slowly climbed the steps as well and met Trip's eyes. "Now what?"

Trip turned around so he was facing the door and put his arm around Malcolm's waist. "C'mon, hold on to me."

Malcolm finally did laugh, a bright sound that contained confusion mixed with amusement, and slid a hand around Trip's waist.

"Now," Trip said and held up three fingers of his free hand. "On three, we jump."

"We do what?"

"Jump." It was cheating a little, but he couldn't think of another way how they would be able to solve the threshold-carrying issue. Malcolm burst out laughing beside him. Trip grinned at him. "Ready?"

Malcolm gave him one of those I-can't-believe-you're-serious-looks, but nodded. Trip turned his head back at the gloomy interior of their house's entrance area. "Three. . ." He pulled back one finger. "Two. . ." Another one. "One!"

They almost made it. They managed to jump at the same time, and neither of them banged their heads or arms on the doorframe. Once they were inside, though, their feet got tangled, and they went down in a rather undignified heap.

Trip cried out in surprise as he landed on the floor, feeling a push in his back as Malcolm fell on top of him. There was a loud crash as something fell over, and Trip couldn't help himself, he began laughing uncontrollably. He turned around and reached for his husband.

"You okay, Mal?" he gasped. Malcolm didn't answer immediately. When he did, his answer was choked by a silent laughing fit.

"Fine. I'm-" He went off again. Trip rolled over, coming to lie almost on top of Malcolm's shaking body. He grinned broadly.

"Now, this worked, didn't it?"

Malcolm gasped, and in the dimness Trip could see him nod. "In- indeed," he said. "This worked just perfectly."

Trip wrapped his arms around his husband and met Malcolm's mouth for a searing kiss. Malcolm responded immediately, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him even closer. Without breaking off, they rolled around so Malcolm came to lie on top, and Trip could feel the excitement and the happiness he knew so well take hold of him, engulfing him. He pulled Malcolm's shirt out of his pants and slid his hands beneath it, touching the warm skin.

"I love you, Mal," he breathed into his husband's mouth. "I love you so much."

Malcolm pulled back a little, and in the dim light that fell in from outside, Trip could see the tender smile on his face. "I love you, too, Trip," he said.

Trip felt even more warmth spread in his body and smiled as well. "How 'bout we take this upstairs into the bedroom?" he suggested, and Malcolm grinned.

"Sounds good to me." He pulled back and got up, and Trip regretted the loss of the warm body pressed up against his. He took Malcolm's offered hand and got to his feet. Malcolm shook off his shoes and quickly closed the door, then turned around to take Trip's hand again.

"Well then, come on, love," he said and began to lead him towards the stairs. "Let's not waste any more time. We've only got the rest of our lives."


End file.
